Category Archives: water, poetry, fathoming

Water Therapy

#hiltonheadisland, Hilton Head Island, therapy, water, poetry, fathoming,

For the past almost month, I’ve been in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina staying with my sister due to family health issues. We are not originally from coastal South Carolina, it’s just where she, her husband, and my mom all retired to after spending vacations there. So, we’ve been visiting for years.

I have mixed feelings about Hilton Head. I like the water – beautiful beaches and a series of scenic sounds, lagoons, and other waterways great for kayaking. I like the temperature, lots warmer than the Frozen Northern Mid-Atlantic this time of year. Not so crazy about the politics, the use of the word “Plantation” in the name of the developments, and a few other things. (Oh, and I have to say that having had my mom in the hospital here twice in the last month, the health care leaves a lot to be desired as well but that’s another story.)

Last year when we rented our own “villa” here for the month of January, I found out you could join the “kayak club” here at Palmetto Dunes Plantation’s Hilton Head Outfitters for a reasonable calendar year price. Palmetto Dunes has 11 miles of kayakable lagoons, and their kayak launch makes it really easy for a “senior kayaker” like me to get in and out quickly and relatively painlessly.

Throughout January, and during visits in April and October, and in the last month, I have more than paid for my kayak club membership in paddles around the lagoons. Eleven miles sounds like a lot, but I have been around the whole of them at least twice or three times now. Different seasons bring different colors and birds and just things you didn’t see the first time, though, so it’s all good.

Being on the water, under your own power, is definitely therapeutic for me. Quiet, just your paddle dipping in and out of the water, watching the sometimes obscenely opulent homes arranged along the lagoon slide by, looking for alligators (I’ve only ever seen one this whole time) and trying to sneak up on the herons to take photos… all good. I can forget everything else for an hour or two. How sad it is that my brother in law passed away a week after Thanksgiving. How hard it is to see my mom so frail and mostly confined to bed. How much I miss my own home and friends back in the DC area.

Here are some snaps of my watery adventures. I hope you all have a peaceful and happy holiday and get to indulge in visiting some of your own personal favorite places and activities. May 2022 bring all good (or at least better) things for us all.

Shifting colors, moving water, amusing boat names.
Even though this is a highly populated area, with homes lining the lagoons, in some parts of the system you can get the illusion of being “in the wild.”
The wildlife is pretty tame. It’s easy to get close to a great blue heron until it catches on to you.
Look carefully as Mr. (or Ms.) alligator is pretty well camouflaged here. And really, very small as alligators go. The lagoons are brackish so not so conducive to these shy critters.
Lots of “happy places” that your mind can return to (even if they are in someone else’s backyard, but you can image sitting out there on a nice day yourself.
Strange (and timely?) dock art.

Ocean Iconography

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Our month in coastal South Carolina is flying by, and I’m trying to make the most of it. Even though I’d rather stay snuggled in bed, I get up early (almost) every morning and take a walk to the ocean. It’s only ten minutes away and usually worth it.

It’s a familiar route, since we’re renting in the same condo development my mom used to live in after she retired in her early 60s and moved down here from Vermont. For over thirty years I’ve taken this walk to the beach when visiting down here, either alone or with someone. Towing my daughter, when she was small, in a Radio Flyer red wagon with the beach stuff. Later using it as a good excuse to get some exercise.

This week, walks to the ocean have been almost mandatory. Because for me, the seaside is a meditative place, the ocean a symbol of change and continuity. Its inexorable wave upon wave reminds us of the march of time and the constant restructuring of life. Each day is rewritten on the sand with water and wind.

The ocean also ties us to the rest of the world. It’s a bit mind-blowing to think that on the other side, thousands of miles away from the Carolina coast, is (apparently, because we looked it up) North Africa. And to think of how this very ocean, for better or worse, in triumph or sorrow, brought peoples from many lands to the shores of America throughout history.

As we brace for what comes next, after a week that brought first hope then disbelief, the ocean is always there, and I will rise from my warm bed to follow its call, gaze upon its ever shifting waters, and ponder.

I have a hard time making it just at sunrise but a few clouds help extend the illusion of getting there on time..
Ever changing patterns in the sand fascinate me.
Here’s a hopeful photo for an uncertain time – a lovely little beach wedding.

Fathoming the Deep

Uncategorized, water, poetry, fathoming, ,

I’m not sure I believe in astrology, but I do love being near, on or in water, and I am an Aquarius (Aquarian?). So maybe there is something to it after all. In any case, I also like to photograph water, at sunrise, at sunset… and now thanks to a nifty feature on my Google Pixel phone camera called Night Sight, even at night.

Which brings me, in a roundabout sort of way, to the word of the day: “fathom.” This is a very useful word. As a measurement of water, the definition extends to a measure of understanding. (As in, “I can’t fathom how long this government furlough has gone on already.” Or, “I’m beginning to fathom just how expendable my job seems to be.”)

It is also a good word for literature. Shakespeare comes to mind. Another example is perhaps not exactly up to The Bard’s level but still interesting: when I did a search for “fathom poem” I came up with this poem on the Hello Poetry site by someone (?) called Third Legacy of Oliver, which I feel addresses the current state of negotiations in Congress, and also contains the word “fathom.” Give it a read and see what you think.

Circling back to the water, I offer my attempts at poetic photography, which hopefully describes in pictures the unfathomable deeps of our understanding – about life, about government, about anything you are currently trying to fathom. Enjoy.